12-20-2018, 09:16 PM
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Pleased the attack landed, the ocelot grinned – but the light didn’t reach her eyes quite right, as she watched the stranger tend to his nose. He looked cuter without that cocky smirk across his muzzle, but Rosemary wasn’t dumb enough to let her guard down after he just ran into her. Eying him carefully, with the salt water moving around her paws, the ocelot continued to grin as went from spitting venom to genuine excitement.
And she blinked, not expecting that reaction from him. Rarely did anyone call her a witch, at least in the Typhoon or Rosebloods, so to hear him call her that surprised her – especially since he spoke with interest and rattling off an odd compliment. Much as she thought differently, she preened at the attention; her talents were hardly ever complimented or even mentioned. The only people that appreciated her skills knew her as the group’s medic, and even they only thanked her after they got themselves in a stupid scuffle.
“I am no loner. I’m third in command of the Rosebloods,” she answered him first, a bit miffed that he called her a loner. And she remembered, from living in the Typhoon, how the two groups used to be allies before Pincher broke off the alliance – she wasn’t sure whether the pirates’ tempers cooled on that matter after her brother stepped down, but she was willing to gamble on that. “I’m Rosemary Roux. And I’ve been a water witch since I was born, practically. My mother and her mother and so on all belonged to the same familial coven,” she explained, leaving out all the grisly details.
Like how they all performed rituals once they knew they were pregnant, to kill off their sons in the womb. Or how nearly all of them suffered from one of the hereditary mental illnesses that ran in their line. Or how Rosemary, despite being one of the most magically powerful and least afflicted by ‘insanity,’ was cast out for going against their ways. Despite her situation, Rosemary still felt pride to belong to the family – much as how she still felt pride to wear the Roux family name, even if she doubted much of them would tolerate her treason if they knew.
Levitating the octopus’s eight legs in front of her, her main eyes remained on the tiger as she looked for the best piece with the other pair. “Octopus is best eaten shortly after it’s killed – would you like some? Perhaps you can entertain me with what you know about water witches in return,” she suggested, clearly a bit too charmed by his interest.
And she blinked, not expecting that reaction from him. Rarely did anyone call her a witch, at least in the Typhoon or Rosebloods, so to hear him call her that surprised her – especially since he spoke with interest and rattling off an odd compliment. Much as she thought differently, she preened at the attention; her talents were hardly ever complimented or even mentioned. The only people that appreciated her skills knew her as the group’s medic, and even they only thanked her after they got themselves in a stupid scuffle.
“I am no loner. I’m third in command of the Rosebloods,” she answered him first, a bit miffed that he called her a loner. And she remembered, from living in the Typhoon, how the two groups used to be allies before Pincher broke off the alliance – she wasn’t sure whether the pirates’ tempers cooled on that matter after her brother stepped down, but she was willing to gamble on that. “I’m Rosemary Roux. And I’ve been a water witch since I was born, practically. My mother and her mother and so on all belonged to the same familial coven,” she explained, leaving out all the grisly details.
Like how they all performed rituals once they knew they were pregnant, to kill off their sons in the womb. Or how nearly all of them suffered from one of the hereditary mental illnesses that ran in their line. Or how Rosemary, despite being one of the most magically powerful and least afflicted by ‘insanity,’ was cast out for going against their ways. Despite her situation, Rosemary still felt pride to belong to the family – much as how she still felt pride to wear the Roux family name, even if she doubted much of them would tolerate her treason if they knew.
Levitating the octopus’s eight legs in front of her, her main eyes remained on the tiger as she looked for the best piece with the other pair. “Octopus is best eaten shortly after it’s killed – would you like some? Perhaps you can entertain me with what you know about water witches in return,” she suggested, clearly a bit too charmed by his interest.
waded through the spirits like a flood on the floor
SHE PUSHED THE WATER INSIDE
I FEEL SO HUNGRY —
— Dear diary, I don't know what's going on, but something's up / The dog won't stop barking, and I think my TV is bust / Every channel is the same, it's sending me insane / And earlier somebody bit me, what a fucking day / The sky is falling / It's fucking boring / I'm going braindead, isolated / God is a shithead / And we're his rejects / Traumatized for breakfast / I can't stomach any more survival horror / Dear diary, I feel itchy like there's bugs under my skin / The dog's gone rabid (shut the fuck up) / Doing my head in —— WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?