06-03-2021, 09:33 PM
Galadriel barely remembers what she ate for breakfast, much less the delicate ins and outs of her interactions with Reave when they were children. If she were to know how easily he remembers, how easily he wields his power, she might grow ever slightly demure. Quiet but still frowning, allowing him to have a bit of respect simply because in her eyes, he is one of the only individuals to ever earn it. Alas, Rel does not know how he remembers. Perhaps one day Reave will share with her his version of their mingling, but for now, she merely scowls.
The blood trickles in ways that Rel finds fascinating. She wonders how her blood might leak, terribly unsatisfied with the scrapes and bumps she gave herself as a child. This was much more curious, more satisfying, this bone that managed to protect and destroy the very same being. The girl purses her lips and cocks her head, fluttering lashes rapidly as she tries to imagine what protruding bone might feel like on her torn skin.
Painful.
Hm, Rel pulls back, tucking her chin to her chest. Those deviant amethyst eyes peer up at Reave, flashing irritation that she has to look up at him at all (how demeaning). She breathes out slowly, considering the slightest inkling of admiration she feels for him - but mostly considering how she finds him terribly handsome in that bone mask.
The smooth roll of Reave's voice pulls Galadriel from such a violent revelation. She takes a single uncertain step back, her ever-frowning face now slightly exposing confusion (but still furrowing, always furrowing).
"I am always mad," she states matter-of-factly. "Are you not?"
@[Reave] she has a crush, the dumb baby
The blood trickles in ways that Rel finds fascinating. She wonders how her blood might leak, terribly unsatisfied with the scrapes and bumps she gave herself as a child. This was much more curious, more satisfying, this bone that managed to protect and destroy the very same being. The girl purses her lips and cocks her head, fluttering lashes rapidly as she tries to imagine what protruding bone might feel like on her torn skin.
Painful.
Hm, Rel pulls back, tucking her chin to her chest. Those deviant amethyst eyes peer up at Reave, flashing irritation that she has to look up at him at all (how demeaning). She breathes out slowly, considering the slightest inkling of admiration she feels for him - but mostly considering how she finds him terribly handsome in that bone mask.
The smooth roll of Reave's voice pulls Galadriel from such a violent revelation. She takes a single uncertain step back, her ever-frowning face now slightly exposing confusion (but still furrowing, always furrowing).
"I am always mad," she states matter-of-factly. "Are you not?"
@[Reave] she has a crush, the dumb baby