phoenixrose
Load. Aim. Fire. Fast. Gotta keep the rhythm going. It's not going to get any better, girl, if you stop and take your time. We're under attack. Do you want to be taken down by the Valkyries? How about B311's assassins? No?
Then learn. Go go go never stop, never try to do anything else than best.
Forget everything else and just MOVE.
Don't wait up, don't wait for him.
You know you can't.
So why do you keep trying.
Though winter's chill was already biting its way through the stone walls of the Nosetti Tower, Phee stoked teh kitchen fire til she was sweating, hoping that the tea would be done soon enough. James and she were still working on plenty of notes, and there was much work to be done. She also still had to head to Eternis lands to find out the status of Deidre's temple, and find out where this Mystic Sword went. So much still left to do.
In the interest of self and family line, she sat down, wearily, onto the bed that she had spent entirely too much in as was. On one hand, they were her closest friends, and people she didn't want to lose. On the other, she also needed to maintain her lineage, and manage at least one heir. Possibly she could do both...however, that could also prove itself to be entirely too awkward. There was always a benefit of doubt...
Though everyone was nothing but shapes against the dark, dimly lit by the camp fire, she still could feel their eyes upon her as she twisted and turned, writhing to the rhythm of heavy drums and flutes. The night sky cast more light from stars and the moon than the fire proper, causing sequins to shimmer brightly.
The captain had to bodily pull herself out from under the mass of blankets that cold winter's morn. Spring was nearly a few weeks away, but still the nights' child made her cold and irritable. It was worse in the sky, during the snowier days, and landing was just impossible then. Last snow storm, they would have been buried up past the upper deck if she hadn't waited to land at the last possible second along a beach.
It was messy, irritating work these days, but deliveries had to happen across continents, and no one but an airship captain was willing to take those risks.
Throwing the wrench to the side, Thia glared in disgust at the broken engine pieces before her. Salvatore rose an eyebrow, trying not to laugh at his captain's obvious hate of this bit of machinery. The woman scrubbed a hand roughly across her nose, smearing grease and oil across her face.
"Damnit all to hell."
When one thinks relatives, one thinks those related by blood. Not so for this poor girl. For her, that family was barely hanging together by a thin, taut thread. No, her true relatives, her true relations, were with friends who didn't completely desert her after the biggest mistake of her life.
It was funny how the simple words of forgiveness and the line "I hate how they look at you" seems to make even just a little bit of the world seem right again. Those who held worry for her, who kept her in their thoughts out of concern, they were her true relatives.
And the Fae had never been happier for them.
I've known the feeling of total rejection. Not just "I'm sorry" or "no". I mean, watching them end their very existence, even if only temporarily, just because they hate, despise and fear you. Never before has something like that hurt so much. But, I think I may have grown up a bit because of it.
He cursed, ducking as another thunderous crack resonated heavily in the night air. Flashes of fire and sparks flickered briefly as each sounding of cannon fire broke down another piece of what he loved, tore down his memories and allies with equal disdain.
I wish I could keep a single idea long enough. I wish I could do anything but bounce from idea to idea, inspiring others. I wish I wasn't so scatterbrained. I just want to stick to something, be able to craft it myself rather than depend on others. It makes me feel useless, weak...when all I want to do is be strong and be able to fend for myself.
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