02-07-2021, 04:29 PM
give my all to watch you fall
She does laugh when he says that he will show her more of his supposed hidden talents. She wants to tell him that she isn’t sure such a boastful man would have any secrets left to share, but by the time she recovers her composure, his eyes have begun to trail down to the scars on her chest. Titanya had eyed them on her reflection in one of Ischia’s small grottos a few weeks after her time in the Alliance ended. They are a stark reminder of her successive failures, of her inability to use her brain as much as her brawn in order to win. She likes the reminder so boldly displayed on herself for all the world to see though. It shows that she is incomplete and not fully realized – that she still has a ways to go before she will be satisfied.
“Nothing besides this failing grade stamped on my chest.” One corner of her mouth quirks up to show that she is not consumed by the mark and what it implies. Not completely, anyway. “I guess zero-for-two attempts only gets you a pat on the back.” She doesn’t need anything more. She hadn’t joined the Alliance for the prize, after all. Stepping onto the battleground was as close to a religious experience as she can imagine. Not throwing her name into the ring for consideration would have been sacrilegious. Not competing would have been a stain on her character. All that mattered was that she could spill blood and create a tapestry of bruises on her opponents.
@[Nashua] tells her about his Isle and the dangerous route one can take to get to it. This relights some fire in her amber gaze and she visibly brightens at the challenge he presents. She makes a mental note to visit him again once the twins are a bit older and more independent. A cold, arduous swim sounds like the perfect remedy for the boring stretch of attempted motherhood immediately ahead of her.
“A twin, huh?” She tilts her head, regarding her newfound friend with renewed interest. It does explain quite a bit. Her gold-edged ears perk forward to listen to the rest before she responds. “I kept my twin alive when our mother was consumed with grief and emotionally absent during our childhood. He had this strange compulsion to eat things he shouldn’t: rocks, sticks, hair. I had to watch him like a hawk day and night.” A faint smile touches her lips and her eyes soften uncharacteristically as she remembers Terran as he was then. A child. Alive. Her whole world. After she left home, she was as alone as the Isle to the north. Unlike Nashua perhaps, she did not mind it overmuch.
Promises to others she can understand, even if she will never grasp the loyalty to a land. So it makes sense when the flaxen-haired man delves further into his devotion to the icy island. She can’t say she would ever promise herself in such a deal. No, she values freedom of movement as a basic right. Her happiness completely runs parallel to her wildness and inability to be tied anywhere permanently. As she thinks it though, a small thought pierces her like an errant sunbeam that leaves her feeling warmer; she likes being bound by one thing, and he is waiting for her on their own lonely island that is anything but.
Nash startles her out of her reverie with his question. It feels like a challenge to be risen to, and her eyes narrow on her one-time opponent. “I merit my worth on my own successes. Here’s one thing I can promise you: the faeries don’t give a shit about any of us. We are all like ants to them and as easily expendable. Their word and judgement means less than nothing to me.” Where were they when the apocalypse came? Where were they when they let a murderer run free after killing her father? Gone, that’s where. Only deigning to visit them when they are bored and there is nothing better to do.
“There would be other fights, other wars,” she says, imagining the chaos that would surely rain down upon them if that were to happen. “There would be no lack of violence to ensnare myself in.” A quick grin finds her lips again. Their world thrived on entropy and existed on top of a constantly crumbling foundation. “What would you do without your gifts? Who would you be without them?” She looks at his bare shoulders where she knows wings rest invisibly and out of harm’s way. What if they never came back? “Me? I would wander the world until my feet fell off looking for the next chance to use the only gift I was born with, my muscles and bones.”
“Nothing besides this failing grade stamped on my chest.” One corner of her mouth quirks up to show that she is not consumed by the mark and what it implies. Not completely, anyway. “I guess zero-for-two attempts only gets you a pat on the back.” She doesn’t need anything more. She hadn’t joined the Alliance for the prize, after all. Stepping onto the battleground was as close to a religious experience as she can imagine. Not throwing her name into the ring for consideration would have been sacrilegious. Not competing would have been a stain on her character. All that mattered was that she could spill blood and create a tapestry of bruises on her opponents.
@[Nashua] tells her about his Isle and the dangerous route one can take to get to it. This relights some fire in her amber gaze and she visibly brightens at the challenge he presents. She makes a mental note to visit him again once the twins are a bit older and more independent. A cold, arduous swim sounds like the perfect remedy for the boring stretch of attempted motherhood immediately ahead of her.
“A twin, huh?” She tilts her head, regarding her newfound friend with renewed interest. It does explain quite a bit. Her gold-edged ears perk forward to listen to the rest before she responds. “I kept my twin alive when our mother was consumed with grief and emotionally absent during our childhood. He had this strange compulsion to eat things he shouldn’t: rocks, sticks, hair. I had to watch him like a hawk day and night.” A faint smile touches her lips and her eyes soften uncharacteristically as she remembers Terran as he was then. A child. Alive. Her whole world. After she left home, she was as alone as the Isle to the north. Unlike Nashua perhaps, she did not mind it overmuch.
Promises to others she can understand, even if she will never grasp the loyalty to a land. So it makes sense when the flaxen-haired man delves further into his devotion to the icy island. She can’t say she would ever promise herself in such a deal. No, she values freedom of movement as a basic right. Her happiness completely runs parallel to her wildness and inability to be tied anywhere permanently. As she thinks it though, a small thought pierces her like an errant sunbeam that leaves her feeling warmer; she likes being bound by one thing, and he is waiting for her on their own lonely island that is anything but.
Nash startles her out of her reverie with his question. It feels like a challenge to be risen to, and her eyes narrow on her one-time opponent. “I merit my worth on my own successes. Here’s one thing I can promise you: the faeries don’t give a shit about any of us. We are all like ants to them and as easily expendable. Their word and judgement means less than nothing to me.” Where were they when the apocalypse came? Where were they when they let a murderer run free after killing her father? Gone, that’s where. Only deigning to visit them when they are bored and there is nothing better to do.
“There would be other fights, other wars,” she says, imagining the chaos that would surely rain down upon them if that were to happen. “There would be no lack of violence to ensnare myself in.” A quick grin finds her lips again. Their world thrived on entropy and existed on top of a constantly crumbling foundation. “What would you do without your gifts? Who would you be without them?” She looks at his bare shoulders where she knows wings rest invisibly and out of harm’s way. What if they never came back? “Me? I would wander the world until my feet fell off looking for the next chance to use the only gift I was born with, my muscles and bones.”
